My Father's Piano
by TryingToFindTime
Summary: When Flaky's father is kidnapped, it's up to her to rescue him. The only problem is that she doesn't know where to start. How far will she go to save her only family, when the only person who may hold a clue to his location is the notorious mass-murderer Flipqy? Humanized.
1. Nabbed!

**Oh my goodness, I have no idea what I'm doing. Hello everyone! Well, I said that I was only going to write one story on this website, but something compelled me to start writing this little demon. Sorry if it isn't very good or exciting. Please, don't hold back anything that you want to say, any feedback is good feedback!**

* * *

_The sun descended over the crisp, clean neighborhood. It was a cheerful little place, with well-kempt lawns, like small green blankets. You could look for blocks, and find a fence around every single tree. There were children playing along the sidewalks, laughing whole-heartedly as they dashed in and out of their homes to grab some engaging new toy. Older couples displayed affection as they watched their children, and their children's children romp in the orange glow of the sun. As the sun went down, so did them, as mothers brought them into their own warm homes, settling them down in much the way that they had always done. Despite it being late evening already, not everyone was settling down. For just up the street, in the Thackson residence, the little townhouse was still continuing to bustle with activity. _

_The current presider over the house was a young girl no older than 14. She was very short, (about 5 feet tall), with thin, compact limbs. She was practically skin and bones, but her muscles were there, hidden and with the appearance of disuse. She hustled about the house, her long and wild red hair bouncing along behind her. Her soft red eyes inspected her own work._

_She had stayed home today, cleaning the house from top to bottom. Every corner, every inch of floor and ceiling alike had been stripped of filth. All of the countertops had been wiped, along with the mantle and fireplace. Every nook and cranny had been relieved of it's dust. She had even polished all 88 keys on the living room piano, its ivory now fresh and shiny. Content with her craft, she went upstairs to wait for her father and younger brother to return. _

_Flaky, (this was her name), had always been timid and shy. Although she was bright, she wasn't very confident and always ended up getting picked on by her peers. Because of this, she spent most of her time skulking about in public, attempting to not be noticed. This was usually unavoidable, however, and she ended most days with a confrontation of some sort. _

_What little courage she had was reserved and distributed amongst the needs of her only family members. Her father, a jolly yet harsh-complexioned man, doted upon her with a passion that could sometimes bring a tear to jump to her eye. Her younger brother, (whose name was Jacob), looked up to her as a role model, despite her attempts to persuade him to find a better one. She finds comfort in their love, and she is always on the prowl to find new ways of delighting them. Today's surprise just happened to be a cleaner, happier house. _

_Flaky rushed downstairs at the sound of the doorbell. She opened the door, only to meet the forlorn eyes of a short man in an overcoat. _

_"W-w-who a-are you?" stuttered a now nervous and frightened Flaky. _

_The man brought out his I.D card and muttered, "I work for your father." As though to set her mind at ease, he bent his back and got down on her level. When he had assured her that he was no threat, he continued. "I was sent here because your father got a horrible call. I have some bad news for you, I'm afraid." _

_Flaky remained silent as the man gathered himself. _

_"It's about your brother. He was in a terrible shooting." _

_Flaky began to shake violently. "W-w-w-hat?" She couldn't find the words to ask what she needed to know. _

_"I'm so sorry. But…" He trailed off slightly. "your brother won't be coming home." _

* * *

It had been four years since the shooting. Jacob and two of his closest friends had wandered off near the old warehouse, in West Hollywood, after school. While the 10 year olds were at play, it is assumed that they were caught in the crossfire of a gang-turf war. They were all found stone dead on the sidewalk, a bullet through each of their tiny bodies.

Flaky and her father had been devastated by the attack. Despite launching a full-scale investigation on the shooting, nothing to explain the event could be found. With no evidence with which to prosecute, they were forced to place the whole tragedy behind them…

* * *

Flaky sat down at the living room piano, still nervous about the night's imminent events. Tonight, her father was hosting a company party for some important admins at their home. She didn't like having people over, and she certainly didn't like to "doll-up" for anyone, but if it was for her father, then she would tolerate anything.

In an attempt to calm herself, she went upstairs to see how her father was fairing. To her dismay, he was in high spirits. It was likely that he had some hair-brained scheme to impress his guests. Noticing her in the doorway of his room, he smiled warmly, and adjusting his tie, he met her with elation.

"My dear daughter, why is it that you look so pale?" Flaky attempted a smile, but it was clear that she was uncomfortable.

"It's nothing dad, I'm just a little nervous is all."

With a slight pang of disappointment, her father simply brought his face to hers and kissed her brow lovingly.

They heard the doorbell ring and in a flash her father was down the staircase. When the ten admins had entered, a sense of pompous elegance seemed to fill the living room. They began to chat the moment that they were through the doorway, some to Flaky's father, but most amongst themselves.

Flaky was relieved to see that none of them had noticed her fumbling down the staircase, and she collected herself as much as possible as she went to stand at her father's side.

Noticing her presence at last, her father grasped her by the arm gently, and led her to the admin's head.

"My dear friend, it's an honor to have you in my home." said her father quite graciously to the tall, well dressed supervisor.

Answering back just as enthusiastically, the admin began to discuss business matters with the father. Flaky could only wait patiently for the right moment.

After a time, her father finally remembered his original intentions. "Mr. Martyr, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Flaky." He said as he gestured to her softly.

Flaky shook the man's hand nervously as he introduced himself. "Hello, my dear. I'm Mr. Martyr. It's such a pleasure to meet you, seeing as how your father talks about you all the time." He added with a laugh.

"D-d-does he?" Flaky couldn't seem to repress a stutter.

"Oh yes, I hear you are very talented."

"She's musically gifted." said her father with a chuckle.

"Is she now?"

"Oh yes."

Flaky blushed, and was beginning to grow increasingly more on-edge. Where was this conversation going?

"Does she play?" asked Martyr as he gestured towards the upright piano across the room.

"Plays and _sings._"

"Like an angel?"

"Why yes!"

They chuckled as they sipped from their wine glasses. Mr. Martyr brought his hands together eagerly, stating; "I would _love_ to hear some enchanting music."

Flaky grew ridged with fright. _Sing and play? In front of everyone?_

Despite knowing his timid daughter the best, he agreed whole-heartedly with the admin. "Yes, please my dear!" He brought his arm to her slender shoulders.

"Oh…I- I," said Flaky bashfully, "I-I couldn't." But other guests, (who had been listening in on the conversation), Began chiming in happily. They to, wanted to see the girl of which their associate spoke of in action.

_If it means impressing father's guests…_ thought Flaky with dread as she trudged toward the piano.

Sitting down haphazardly at the piano bench, she turned anxiously to her father, as if in question.

"Flaky, why don't you play that one arts song? What was it again? Nina?"

"Tre Giorni Son Che Nina?" asked Martyr with anticipation.

Bringing his hands together, he cried, "That's the one!" and he sat down.

Flaky was sacred out of her wits, but remembering that her father needed to impress these men greatly made her want to climb a mountain on his behalf.

Slowly, steadily, she brought her hands to the keys and began the first 'broken' chord. As the end of the intro was warped up, she readied her voice. She spread her lips as she prepared to fill the house with music. Flaky sang with a rather haunting, melancholy tone:

_tre giorni son che nina, che nina, che nina _

_in letto se ne sta, in letto se ne sta _

_pifferri timpani cembali _

_svegliate mia ninetta _

_svegliate mia ninetta _

_accio non dorma pui, accio non dorma pui _

_svegliate mia ninnetta, svegliate mia ninetta _

_acico non dorma pui_

_acico non dorma pui…_

Just as everyone began to clap and cheer, the nights suddenly went out. The shattering of glass was heard from the living room window right before all of the guests began to panic. They trampled each other as they rushed blinding about, looking for the exit. Banging could be heard from all sides of the house, as people screamed in terror.

Flaky shook with fear and dismay on the piano bench as she heard the muffled cries of her father. Just as quickly as it had started, the ordeal ended. It was quiet once again, with only an occasional groan from some injured admin. Flaky detached herself from the bench and ran into the kitchen for a flashlight. After she aimlessly searched for batteries and forced them into the flashlight, she switched it on and galloped back into the living room to survey the damage.

Five of the guests were lying about, some motionless and others holding their heads or groaning in pain. Flaky found that the door was wide open. Figuring that the rest of the admins had fled, she examined the property damage. Two windows were broken, vases and picture frames had been shattered to bits, and the living room rugs had been stirred in all of the excitement.

"Dad!" Flaky called. There was no answer as she scurried throughout the entire house.

"Dad? Dad!"

She screamed in panic without even realizing it as she searched for him in desperation. Nowhere was her jolly father. He wasn't in the family room, the living room, the kitchen, dining room, or anywhere.

Tears began to slide down her face as she choked on her pleas for him to return.

She dashed outside, franticly searching for any sign of him. "Dad! Dad!"

Flaky sobbed in the middle of the sidewalk, broken and in total despair. It was no use.

Her father was gone.

* * *

**Yes. Her last name IS Thackson. Because Thackson is ****_THUG._**

**(A quick shoutout to everyone who left a review on my last story: Thanks a lot, you guys are awesome! I love it when people take the time to tell me how I'm doing.)**

**Till'next time! :3**


	2. Flaky Finds an Opening

The air in the house ran cold for two weeks afterwards.

It had been like this before, four years ago when Jacob had been killed. Only this time, Flaky was all alone.

She divided herself, talking to the authorities at one time, and siting alone in her empty home at another. She never spoke to anyone. For three days, she didn't even eat. She only mourned and then would cry herself to sleep.

She felt pathetic and lonely, and tired all the time. And only when she had been summoned to return to the police station for questioning, did she gather her frail body up and drive down into the city.

It was a gloomy, overcast morning in West Hollywood that day as she made her way downhill. Down, away from the place that once brought her such happiness. After such a tragedy, it was almost relieving to drive away from it all. Yet the pain of her situational uselessness followed her everywhere.

She would admit it to anyone. Flaky blamed herself for her father's brutal kidnaping. Paralyzed, she had been too powerless to stop them. Powerless to leave the piano bench long enough to rush to his side, or to turn on a light, or even to scream.

She wiped away a few tears as she tried her best to concentrate her on driving. She was heading for the local police station, one that doubled as a prison house.

In a drowsy drudge, she somehow managed to get inside and find her way to the chief, who was waiting for her in his office.

* * *

Chief Splendid slouched in his chair at his desk, slurping lukewarm coffee out of a battered, stained mug.

He was a proud man, if not a slightly egotistical one. Yet, considering his overall wellbeing, perhaps this is something to be admired.

His dark blue hair was ruffled and messy, his eyes tired and strained from constantly looking over unpleasant files. Despite this, he carried himself with a sense of dignity, as if he wore the best clothes and lived in the finest estate in Hollywood.

Noticing Flaky, he gestured for the young woman to sit down in the chair opposite to him. Flaky did as she was told, although, somewhat apprehensively. The police officer in the corner of the room was very disconcerting.

Splendid rested his mug on his desk and began to skim the rim of it with his index finger. "Ms. Thackson, I assume that you know what your father does for a living." He brought his hand up to his brow and rubbed his forehead.

Flaky responded, now somewhat calm, "Vaguely. I thought that it had something to do with the deporting of goods?"

"Somewhat. He deals with foreign commodities, and the localization of deported goods. He has become a rich man. A very rich man."

Flaky gulped as she came to a sudden realization. She only silently wished that the chief would not tell her what she thought he might say.

"We found a crucial piece of evidence at your home on the night of the raid." He began. "We tried to resolve it, but it would seem that neither side in this is willing to corporate."  
He handed her a sealed zip lock bag. Inside of it was a letter with pasted words.

THEODORE THACKSON WILL NEVER BE RETURNED,

UNLESS A SUM OF 600,000,000$ IS BROUGHT TO WEST HOLLYWOOD, IN THE ABANDONED WAREHOUSE ON SUNSET BOULEVARD, ON DECEMBER: 21st, 5:00, EASTERN STANDARD TIME. DO NOT BRING POLICE, DO NOT COME ARMED, OR THACKSON WILL BE KILLED ON SIGHT.

YOU HAVE THREE MOUTHS TO COMPLY WITH THESE DEMANDS. FAILURE TO DO SO BY DECEMBER: 21st WILL RESULT IN THE MURDER OF YOUR ADMIN.

Flaky was horrified. She felt herself begin to tear up as she panicked, demanding answers from Splendid. To her demise, she got what she was looking for.

"Your father's company branches haven't given up any ground, and it doesn't look like they will anytime soon…"

* * *

Flaky sat in the waiting room after she had been questioned. Throughout the partial sobbing she had somehow managed to give him the information that he needed and she had been left alone.

As she wallowed in total despair, she suddenly heard a voice call her name.

"Flaky?"

The girl glanced upward and met the eyes of Pop Samson, a man that she knew through her part-time babysitting job. He was a board man, with brown whiskers that grew around his neck and face. He looked aged beyond his years, not unlike many others at the station. Flaky was the odd one out. If she hadn't felt so miserable herself, then might of never come to avoid such an awkward situation.

She remembered watching Pop's son Cub on several occasions. Sometimes for free. She looked up at the man and noticed that he wore the uniform of the police department.

"Flaky, I heard about what happened. I'm so sorry that you had to stay in that house by yourself all that time."

It was as if he had read Flaky's mind. She smiled and reassured him that she was alright.

"I am afraid…" She added with a sigh.

"Why is that?" he asked in a soothing voice.

"I don't think that I can go back… not yet." Flaky sniffled and she felt her eyes water again. Pop thought about this for a moment. After a time, he offered Flaky room and board with his family. Flaky hesitated, but he insisted.

As the two spoke to one another, it became apparent to Pop that Flaky was troubled further. While prodding her, she spilled all of her secrets to him. She told him how her father was taken away from her. She told him about the letter, and the fate that her father was doomed to meet, thanks to his unfaithful cohorts.

As they comforted each other, Flaky allowed her eyes to wander around the station. She spotted a large corkboard with dozens of pictures and newspaper clippings. One with huge bold headlines caught her eye the most.

She rose up from her seat and strolled over to the clipping, reading it aloud in the now nearly empty waiting room.

"Mass-Murderer 'Flipqy' Brought Behind Bars"?

Officer Pop stood up. "Didn't you hear about that? I thought it was old news." He said, chuckling.

Flaky sighed. "Well, I heard that the murders stopped, but I never saw any headlines at the time…"

"How old were you?"

Flaky continued reading the article. "On October 14, 1986…" Flaky paused. She felt a compulsion to keep reading. "The murderer of nearly 32 innocent people and 8 criminals was finally apprehended at the scene of a horrible shooting on Sunset Boulevard, though oddly, the work wasn't his. Further questioning was unsuccessful. While he still awaits trial, he is being held at the West Hollywood Prison, where he is kept in a specialized cell…"

At this point in time, Flaky started to get a crazy idea, an extremely crazy, somewhat improbable idea. She put two and two together, and realized that the circumstances were just too odd to ignore. What were the chances that her brother was killed, at the same time and at the same place as her father's ransom site? At the same time, this guy Flipqy was there at the sight of her brother's death, so it wasn't totally insane to try and tie the three events together.

She thought about her brother. She thought about her jolly, loving father, and his round face, and the way that he embraced her. How she longed for his warm touch once more…

"Pop." She said with a rare new confidence. "I want you to take me to this man."

* * *

And so, they began their decent to the basement of the prison house, despite much protest from her badge-clad companion.

Flaky and Officer Pop walked down the long, dimly lit corridor. The girl looked around frightfully at the pale, debris-smeared walls that incased them, and she was careful not to slip on the grimy tile that lined the floor of the building. Up above, the veteran lights seemed to struggle with their work, and on occasion, they would flicker and their path would fade out of clarity.

The walls of the corridor grew narrower and narrower as they pushed onward. After what seemed like an hour of walking, Pop and Flaky had reached their destination. She gaped at the sight of the bared steel doors and its rusty, yet reliable hinges. It looked dilapidated and ancient, as if it hadn't even budged in well over a decade. The only clue as to what could be held inside was a small window, about the size of a cigarette case, which had been latched up tight.

Officer Pop reluctantly brought his hand to the latch and unlocked it, allowing a stream of light to intrude into the darkness of the room behind it. It was faint, but Flaky was almost certain that she had heard something stir from within. Pop stepped aside and allowed her full access to the window, which she hesitantly peered into. Flaky almost fainted at the sight of the inhuman thing that was hidden inside.

When her eyes had fully adjusted to the light, she first noticed the chains. They jutted out from each corner of the room like devilish, dark roots. They intersected at the very center of the room, ensnaring the body of a large, muscular man. What could be seen of his psyche through the mounds of iron chains was quite impressive. It was almost depressing to see his broad, powerful shoulders hanging low under the intense weight of the repressive shackles.

Flaky shifted her gaze upwards, only to have her eyes offended by the sight of a horrendous muzzle. At least, it looked like one. It coiled around the man's mouth like a boa constrictor, its leather straps taunt against his skin, threatening to leave a mark there forever. The mouthpiece itself was nonexistent, and instead, something that looked more like an umpire's helmet had been wrapped firmly around the prisoner's jaw. It was evident that his mouth could still move, and therefore he could still speak. His head was down and he appeared motionless.

Flaky was disturbed by the methods of restraint that the asylum had used on him. It seemed quite unnecessary to go to such lengths just to keep him locked up. It looked like he could barely move! _Is he that dangerous?_ She wondered, still sick to her stomach.

As if he could tell what she was thinking, Pop began to explain the prisoner's condition. "You've probably heard all of the rumors about his strange behavior. About the murders, the robberies, assault…"

Flaky carefully shut the tiny window and turned her attention towards the timely officer, her stance tense as his explanation went on.

"I can tell you now, that most of what you've heard is probably true. This guy's record is so macabre and twisted that most people don't even know about it but I do," Pop paused here. "Because I've seen it. I've seen proof that what that say is true.

Flaky grit her teeth as she grew more on edge with the tension that Pop was building, to the point that it actually disturbed her. He didn't seem to notice as he spoke.

"He isn't like other criminals. He robs, but not for the cash. He steals, but not for the belongings, and worst of all he-"

Pop halted his speech here as he wiped the sweat away from his brow nervously. He had trouble forming his words as her reluctantly finished his statement with a question. "What kind of twisted, demented person… kills for pleasure?"

At that moment, the terrifying harmony of rattling chains and enraged screams rose up from the little room. Flaky was so afraid that she hid her face against the nearby wall parallel to the cell. Pop went back towards the door and shut the window tightly. Flaky turned around as the cries ceased.

"Why did they bind him with those awful chains?" She questioned Pop, fear still apparent in her ruby eyes.

"He is extremely powerful. He has been known to break out of every mainstream restraint tool in the justice system. Not even the straightjackets at the asylum could hold him for long…" Pop readjusted his uniform, obviously quite nervous about what he was about to do. He inhaled sharply, and signed.

"Look Flaky, I know things have been really rough." Flaky frowned again, her mind now back on her sorrow of losing her father to… God knows who. "Things like this aren't easy, and even though we're doing the best that we can, I know that it sometimes doesn't feel like enough is being done.

Pop wiped the sweat from his brow again. "I lost my wife years ago, and I worked the justice system ragged to try and find her killer." Flaky was startled, tears now in her ruby eyes. Now she felt guilty for having made Pop bring that subject up.

Pop continued. He looked at her, his eyes sympathetic. "Still, I needed to move on, for my own sake, as well as my family."

Flaky seemed to understand that Pop couldn't do much else, and just as she was about to respond, he stopped her.

"Flaky, I know how it feels. And since you've done me a few favors, I'll do this for you, at the very least." Pop shuffled his feet back towards the door and opened the little window, light streaming through the dark room once more.

He turned around and left her standing in the hallway, his face somewhat downcast. Flaky guessed that the mention of his wife had done this.

He glanced back at her for a moment as he turned the corner and spoke parting words. "You have ten minutes Thackson. You have ten minutes. And if you can't get him to talk, I'm pulling you out of there."

Flaky was elated. At last! She had found an opening to the whereabouts of her father. The question was… would Flipqy tell her what he knew, if he even knew anything at all?

Flaky, (frightened of the man though she was), was determined to find out. She raised herself on her tiptoes and positioned herself in front of the opening to the door, eyes scrolling the room, looking for the figure inside. With the help of the light, she saw him hunched over on the floor, his head still down.

She focused her stare to get a clearer look at him, and then wished that she hadn't. For all of a sudden, his head shot upwards, and she was greeted by a pair of curious, nearly cryptic orbs.

A chill ran up her spine as she looked into his eyes. The pupils didn't move from her face, they only kept staring into her, not even blinking. They were an almost wacky shade of yellowish-green, and they were so bright that Flaky would have sworn that they were glowing. Glowing like a pair of angry headlights.

Flaky felt her throat grow dry as she opened her mouth to address him, yet no sound came out. She struggled under his unrelenting gaze, until she finally managed to speak.

"H-hello?" she stuttered nervously.

The murderer did not respond, he only continued to stare at her. Flaky felt as though he were trying to swallow her up.

Flaky continued. "S-s-sir?"

Silence.

And then Flipqy smiled at her.


	3. Author's note'

**Hello everyone! **

**So, I was rushing to get the second chapter of this story out, only to release it before I had the chance to clear a few things up.**

**This story is seriously giving me a headache. I've tried to work out the most important bits as best I can, but I fear that I may not have the skill to get the messages across without completely destorying the original concept that I had in mind. In order to keep the story interesting, I ignored major plot points in this chapter, so if you don't fully understand something, that's' probably my fault. **

**To try and cope with this, here is a fun game that you can play when you read it from now on. It's called:**

**_COUNT THE PLOT HOLES!_**

**This game is very simple to play. Just read a chapter, and then, in the review section, leave one plot hole that you noticed and explain why that part of the story doesn't make any sense. Fun at parties!**

**Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story so far, please leave a review. If you did not, please leave a review. Any feedback is good feedback! **

**:)**


	4. A Bad Idea

It was a shrewd smile; one that suggested extreme cleverness and desire. At the same time, it was warm and full of sympathy, not unlike the one that Pop sported minutes ago. Flipqy must have raised his brow in the darkness, because his once stone cold eyes softened and the ferocity diminished. He looked almost… friendly.

Nevertheless, it caught Flaky off guard and a chill shot up her spine. Looking at his yellow orbs, it was easy to imagine some sort of snake or monster on the other end of his eye shine. She didn't seem capable of starting up a conversation. Luckily, she didn't have to; Flipqy had ample to say.

"I know you," drifted his dark, husky voice from the room. Flaky gulped nervously. "Your Thackson's little girl." He suppressed a chuckle as he gazed at her face from across the room.

Flaky shifted her feet uncomfortably. "How do you know about my father?"

"The guards told me." The man lifted his head up higher, as though he might fall asleep. "The guards tell me lots of things, darling."

She hadn't expected him to refer to her in such a bizarrely intimate way. Flaky felt like he was almost teasing her, and she half closed her eyes in slight irritation. He must have had the eyes of a hawk, for he spotted this easily and started to laugh. "Now now, what's the matter? That's right, I forgot about your lineage. Perhaps you ought to come inside, so we can have a proper introduction." He ran his tongue across his teeth. "I'd like to see the rest of you."

Flaky didn't like the sound of that at all, and she shook her head. There was no way that she wanted to go anywhere near a murderous psychopath, chains or no chains. In addition, his intentions were slowly growing more provocative, which was something that Flaky had never encountered knowingly before and it frightened her.

"I understand." Flipqy leaned forward, rattling the mass of chains round his crouched figure and straining against their keep. It was his way of getting a better look at her. "Why trust a knife wielding psycho? You're a smart one, aren't you?" He exhaled on an amused chuckle. Flaky now found that her position conversely with him made her uneasy, like she related to him yet did not want to. She had more serious questions in mind and she had full intent on asking them. The only problem was that she was that she didn't trust him to react properly. He might not have taken her plight seriously and the idea frustrated her.

"Something is bothering you, isn't it?"

Flaky looked up at him surprised. He was staring into her face with a questioning expression. By now, her eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness of the room and she could see parts of him more clearly. His features were softened and relaxed. His shoulders had ceased straining against the shackles and his breathing had slowed. He inhaled with his stomach now instead of his chest, which was more than Flaky could say for herself.

Somehow though, Flaky could stay calm. Perhaps it was his vast understanding of the situation and intent towards her that relaxed her somewhat. Maybe it was his idle, indifferent appearance that reassured her of no danger. Either way, a part of her was calm, and she brought her question to partial attention.

"I have something very important to ask you" She said downcast. She suddenly remembered that Pop had only given her ten minutes, initially. "But I need more time, so I'll be back in just a moment."

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere." He sighed. "I never go anywhere."

Flaky turned away from the door as a feeling of perplexity washed over her. She couldn't help be feel somewhat sorry for him. After all, he was cooperating with her. For a while she forgot that he was a murderer, and tried to remind herself of this as she went up the stairs to find Pop, who was waiting at the entrance to the underground section of the prison.

Pop was evidently surprised at Flipqy's apparent cooperation. He grudgingly agreed to let her stay, and he bounded through the exit doors, leaving her alone with the beast in the hallway. Flaky soon returned to the cell, much to Flipqy's delight. He smiled at her again, sparing no expense on warmness or pleasantry. It almost made Flaky smile to.

"Now, before you begin," said Flipqy, "I have one favor to ask of you."

Flaky questioned him in apprehension. "What is it?"

"Do you see this muzzle?"

Flaky stared at the horrid thing in fascination. How could she _not_ see it? It coiled round his jaw tightly, half leather, half iron. It looked very uncomfortable. "I do."

Flipqy grinned and his eyes grew excited. "I need you to take this wrenched thing off of me."

Flaky gaped. Flipqy ignored it and continued. "It's never taken off. The straps dig into my neck, and it itches terribly. Please take it off."

Flaky was incredulous. She suspected that he wanted her to stand close enough to him to be within biting distance, which didn't sound very promising. On the other hand, if she didn't do it, he might disregard her question. Flaky was caught in a conundrum of wanting desperately to run away and also wanting to abide by his rules.

"Of course," Flipqy spoke after some time. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I understand your apprehension." Flaky sighed with relief. "However," He continued slowly. "I would very much appreciate it, if you took the muzzle off."

Now Flaky felt almost guilty for wanting to run. With fear in her ruby eyes, she reached for the latch on the rusty steel door. She paused. "And you'll listen to me afterwards?"

Flipqy smiled wider. "With all my attentiveness."

Flaky shook with fright as she quietly lifted the huge latch. She stopped and looked around. No one else was down there with them. It calmed her and freaked her out at the same time.

Her legs turned into jelly as the door slowly swung open. There was a long silence between them as the door opened with a loud: **_Creeeeeeeeak._**

There she was, standing in the lion's den. She walked forward hesitantly, all the while she screamed in her head: _'Not a good idea. Not a good idea. This is a terrible idea. Not a good idea!'_

Despite this, she stepped in front of him and bowed, shifting her weight on the balls of her feet. She slowly reached towards the straps. She did a double-take when Flipqy glanced at her from the side. "I won't hurt you darling," He said with a charming smile. "I promise."

She still didn't like the idea of taking off his muzzle, but the memories of her father and brother compelled her to do the unthinkable. "Just the muzzle?"

"Just the muzzle."

Slowly, she tugged at the straps until they came loose. She swiftly yanked at the muzzle and brought the contraption off in one fluid motion. As soon as it was off she ran for the hills, or in this case, the other side of the room, where the door was.

It hadn't been necessary; Flipqy had kept his promise, and was still hunched over. At the moment he was opening and closing his mouth, trying to get the skin on his face to re-adjust to the air of the present. "Much better. Much better."

After a time he looked at Flaky again. She breathed a sigh of relief as he thanked her, still holding her stare.

"Now then, tell me about your problem."

Flaky proceeded to tell him everything, even things that were personal, despite the fact that it made her feel emotionally vulnerable. After she told him about the ransom letter, he spoke to her.

"Liars."

Flaky didn't understand. "What?"

"They're not after the ransom money. It's a cover-up. I know from experience. They wouldn't threaten the police department with murder unless they wanted people to think Thackson was dead. They're after something else from your father."

Flaky was shocked and oddly, pleased to hear such 'good' news. At the very least, it meant that her father wouldn't be killed in the next month.

"You know, there might be a way to figure out where he is." Flipqy said.

Flaky pondered this. "How?"

"Your brother was killed at the 'ransom' sight." He spoke slowly, with interest. "I was there at the time. It was a drive-by. I think I remember the license plate number." He finished by looking in the other direction.

Flaky was elated. "Thank you Sir!"

"Call me Flipqy." He said with a grin.

"Thank you Flipqy." She spoke quietly, but excitedly.

He kept his head down. "Hold on a minute. I need to think. In the meantime, do me the honor of scratching my neck, it's driving me crazy."

Flaky obliged and walked forward, her arm slightly outstretched. She was too caught up in her excitement to notice Flipqy smirking evilly. When her hand was at the back of his neck, he lurched forward like a shark out of the water and aimed to bite at her head. She jumped away, startled, but she struggled to escape his jaws that were clamped down firmly on a lock of her hair. She bucked and tore away from his mouth. Angry, and strangely shocked that he had attacked her, she ran out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Flaky bolted down the hallway before stopping at the stairs, and then stood at the end of the hallway, catching her breath. As she bent over, panting, she noticed that a clump of her hair was hanging down awkwardly from her bangs. She reached up on her head. One of her hair pins were missing.

Her breathing hitched as she heard a sound from the end of the hallway. It was faint at first, but for every passing moment, it grew louder and louder. At once, it stopped and was replaced by another noise. One that Flaky wished she would never hear again.

**_Creeeeeeeeak._**

Flaky was petrified again at the sound of a slow, methodic footfall. **_Thump, Thump, Thump._** It came closer, and closer. She didn't want to turn around, she was too terrified to think of anything. She could only listen with horror as the footsteps came closer still.

**_Thump, Thump, Thump._**

Flaky trembled with fright as each second passed by, the footfall still growing louder and coming even closer. Her mouth hung open as waves of tears threatened to come forward. They were getting closer. Closer. They were right next to her now. She still couldn't move.

**_Thump. Thump. Thump._**

They stopped. Flaky was paralyzed with fear, as she heard a voice whisper in her ear. It was purposely bitter and jeering.

"Hello…_darling._"

* * *

**Ermagerd, I feel like I haven't updated anything in forever. I haven't had computer access in weeks, and I had a nasty case of writer's block for a while. But I'm back now, bitches!**

**Congrats Flaky, you just unleashed a monster! Here's a gold star! ***

**Any feedback is good feedback! :)**


	5. In The Cupboard

Flaky's blood ran ice cold. She couldn't function properly; she could only tremble with dread as she heard the sound of Flipqy's excited, ragged breathing next to her ear. For a moment in time, they stood, Flaky quivering as she felt his warm breath traveling down the back of her neck like warm, damp fronts. The intensity of the silence was driving her insane, and she suddenly bolted, arms outstretched towards the staircase, as though it might deliver her safety. This wasn't the case.

Flipqy swiftly brought his massive hands to her neck and clenched his fingers round her throat, suffocating her with an effortlessness that was rather chilling. With no air coming to her lungs, Flaky couldn't make any noise; she couldn't scream for help. She flailed wildly, lashing out at his hands trying to escape, but it was a futile attempt. Flipqy held her in his grasp as easily as a cat held a mouse.

He loosened his clutch altogether suddenly, and watched for a moment with morbid amusement as Flaky scrambled up the stairs on her hands and knees, still gasping for air. He allowed her to think for a moment that she had escaped, before dashing over to her and grasping the back of her coat. With only one powerful hand, he lifted her several feet off the ground, shaking her as though she weighed as little as a stuffed toy, and were as lifeless as a ragdoll. It took him all his might not to send delighted, cruel laughter echoing through the halls: he didn't want the cops ruining his fun.

Flaky had gathered just enough air at this point to squeal in terror as he tampered with her terrified little body like a violent child with his plaything. It didn't take long for her to start whimpering at the sight of this unfamiliar horror that had found its way into her small world. Flipqy held her off the ground slightly and continued to choke her, less firmly now, but enough for her to feel as though her life were in jeopardy. Stifled laughter escaped from his lips, laughter that only came from the twisted amusement of a predator as he tortured his prey. It had been four long years since he had laughed as such. He had missed it.

Flaky couldn't take it any longer; she screamed, loudly and shrilly. It sent a high pitched echo through the halls, the likes of which the underground had never encountered before.

Flipqy immediately stopped what he was doing. Flaky screamed again, this time with an aim to find aid. "Help me! Someone please, hel-" She was cut off when he tugged at the collar of her coat and shook her, sending waves of tremors through her form with a ferocity that rattled her teeth.

Flaky trembled as she looked into his eyes that were now boiling with rage. "You," He growled savagely, "have made a big mistake." Flaky cried out in pain and shock as she suddenly felt her back collide with the wall, Flipqy's hand tightening around the collar of her coat. "A _fatal _mistake."

Flaky felt hot tears slide down her face. This was it. She was done for. She didn't have a snowflake's chance in hell of finding her father; she wouldn't even be able to save herself!

Rustling was heard above. The shifting of weight and the pounding of footsteps were the predominant of the sounds; they bounded across the tile, faintly shaking the ceiling above them as they rushed off towards the source of the scream.

Flipqy cursed. He needed to do something fast or he would be right back where he started. He calmly allowed his eyes to scroll over her, investigating. Flaky could tell with a morbid intuition that he was silently determining her fate. Terrifying thoughts raced through her mind. She envisioned him choking her, gouging out her eyes, slamming her against the wall until she was a red mess, and at least a dozen other horrible ways to go.

Flaky let the tears fall freely now, sobbing quietly and shutting her eyes. She whimpered as she felt his hands on either side of her head, one slowly sliding down to the underside of her jaw. Flaky's chest heaved uncontrollably, and she trashed about wildly trying to escape, but to no avail. Flipqy had an iron grip on her head, and if anything was getting more annoyed than distraught.

Poor Flaky heard the police descending the stairs, but she no longer held any hope of rescue as Flipqy's grip tightened even more. The last thing she heard was Pop's horrified voice flying down the staircase.

"Y….You!"

Everything went black after that.

* * *

Flaky felt consciousness before she could see it. She regained partial awareness with a throbbing pain at the back of her head. A warm, sticky liquid coated her hand as she tried to soothe herself. It was counterproductive, as she immediately panicked when she realized that it was blood.

Her eyes snapped open, and she groaned at the queer sting of awareness. She determined her surroundings: A car. The trunk of one, to be more specific. The car was in motion, and Flaky could occasionally feel a slight jolt from beneath her as it rolled across the earth. When her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she slowly began to recall the events of that evening.

Police station. Splendid. Officer Pop. And…

She remembered Flipqy with fear and resentment. She had expected him to snap her neck and kill her, but that clearly wasn't the case. She sighed in utter grief and she tried to grasp hold of what was going on, anger and self-pity welling up inside her. In her desperate attempts to make things better, she ended up making everything worse. She had been stupid enough to allow him to trick her into unleashing a…

The car jerked to a stop, and Flaky crashed forward into the wall of the trunk, bruising her shoulder painfully. It was just moments later that the trunk door was lifted and streetlight flooded into the compartment, blinding her for a few seconds. She raised her aching head and stared up at her captor.

It was Flipqy, complete with his prison jumpsuit and psychic expression. Flaky nearly gagged out loud when she saw that he was splattered from head to toe in dark red blood. The liquid had ceased dripping from his features, and instead began to coagulate, slowly oozing down the sides of his face and clothing like syrup over a stack of pale pancakes.

_'Monster…'_

"We've reached our destination, madam." Flipqy said derisively. "I hope you found your accommodations sufficient." He grabbed hold of her crop of hair and tugged hard. Flaky squealed as he pulled her out of the trunk with ease, allowing her to collapse onto the wet pavement before speaking again.

"You have made a fatal mistake," He began with malice. He grinned as she gulped nervously. "Perhaps if you are obedient, and do as you're told…" Flipqy stopped to admire a blood-coated knife that he balanced in his palm. "You will live to learn from it after all." He looked at her again. "Not as if you have much choice in the matter anyway."

Flipqy ordered Flaky to stand up, which she did fearfully and reluctantly. With the cold steel blade, Flipqy maneuvered her away from the car and onto the sidewalk. She took note of how late it was, shocked and appalled that Flipqy had kept her in that trunk for hours on end. She wasn't sure where he had taken her, but it looked like an abandoned street, judging by the way most of the buildings were presented and how unearthly quiet it was outside.

Flaky examined the tall building in front of her. It appeared to be very old, because it was rusted and practically falling apart. She was lead inside, where she was greeted by a musky, stale odor. Flaky also caught the scent of wet, rotting wood and had a strong urge to cover her nose. Flipqy didn't seem to notice any of this, and jabbed the knife into her back and snapped at her when she hesitated to move further inside.

The building was mostly empty, save for a few stray crates and large, crude sacks that were sprawled out over the floorboards. She also noticed a rather larger cupboard that had been ripped from its respective wall and left to rot alone. Despite this, it was in fairly good condition.

Flipqy saw an opportunity with this, and dragged Flaky towards it. "Stay inside here, or you're gonna get it, understood?" Flaky nodded with tears of remorse in her eyes. Upon that, she found herself shoved inside the tiny cupboard, with was covered with small cobwebs and dust particles.

Flaky curled up inside, clutching her legs against her chest and shivering. All at once the gravity of the situation began to dawn on her relentlessly. She had failed. She had completely and utterly failed in saving her father, and ultimately herself. She had violated the trust of the police department. She released Flipqy, indirectly, but nevertheless it had happened because of her. She had probably caused several deaths, judging by the copious amounts of blood on his clothing.

She was a murderer.

Flaky broke down, sobbing loudly. She inhaled deeply and ululated with despair, her eyes filled with tears that continuously streamed down her face. She wanted to believe that there was hope of finding her father now, but after tonight, she found it hard to have hope even for herself. She cried loudly, oh, how she moaned and cried.

And cried.

_And cried._

It went on for about three minutes before Flipqy had finally lost his patience. Strolling towards the door, he slammed his fist down on the cupboard several times, making Flaky jump inside.

"Knock it off!" He bellowed. "You keep that shit up, and I'll _really_ give you something to cry about!" Then he kicked the side of the cupboard for good measure and stomped back to where he was bundled for the night.

Flaky silently let the tears fall onto the wooden floor, too afraid to even move.

"H-h help…" She whispered to figures that were not there. "P-pl-please… h-help."


	6. Rules

**Holy gebbus, people went nuts for this story. O_o**

**Well, you guys deserved an update, (even if I don't really understand what all the fuss is about).**

* * *

As light began to intrude into the room the following morning, Flipqy slowly awoke to the dead silence of the abandoned street. His eyes lazily opened, his features relaxed and calm as he pieced together the events that had preceded the morning.

He could hardly believe his luck when someone had been stupid enough to actually walk into his cell and remove his muzzle, but it was like something out of a dream when he had swiped one of her hair pins and unlocked his own shackles. Flipqy sat up slowly, inhaling deeply as he allowed his hands travel to his shoulders. He rubbed and prodded them in an attempt to relieve the slight ache. It didn't trouble him so much now, seeing as how the ache would soon go away in the upcoming weeks.

This morning had been the first for him in nearly four years that he woke up pleased with himself. The past life he held in prison had been a harsh blow to his pride as a criminal mastermind. Now, at last, he had a chance to restore himself back to his former dignity. At last, he wouldn't have to deal with the constant darkness and the binding chains. He could forget about the way that he was muzzled like a dog and escorted around, or the way that officers had to feed him by the spoonful while they mocked his helplessness. No longer did he cower under the threat of the death penalty that constantly loomed over him; and no amount of soreness in his back could take away the fact that he was free.

Oh yes. This morning for Flipqy had been positively _glorious_. And things were about to get even more interesting.

His eyes drifted to the cupboard when he heard something stir from within. With a wicked grin, he stood up and stretched as he made his way over to it, walking loudly, with propose, as if to announce his presence. Resting his knuckles on the wood for a moment, he lowered his ear to the cupboard door and listened. He heard nothing but a tiny whimper. At this Flipqy smirked to himself, satisfied with the girl's reaction. He raised his wrist to knock on the wood, but then thought better of it. Instead, he placed a hand on either side of the cupboard, and promptly knocked it over.

It hit the floor with a loud **_Clunk!_** and the girl inside shrieked, terrified. Flipqy threw the doors open and grinned at her.

Flaky gazed up at him, a look of sheer terror plastered on her face. She managed to push herself up against the wall of the toppled cupboard, but still found it horrifying when her captor's eyes followed her frightened stare.

Flipqy stared down his nose at her, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Scream."

Flaky's lip quivered uncontrollably.

"Go on, scream again." Flipqy said in a jovial voice. "It's music to my ears."

When Flaky was slow to respond, the man grabbed her by the roots of her hair and dragged her across the floor. Each scream she elicited sent a tremor through Flipqy's body. He giggled gleefully as he released her scalp.

"You have no idea how amazing I feel, Thackson." He cackled as he watched her grasp her tender head in her hands. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she held the hemorrhage. She sobbed as Flipqy brought a hand to her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"What are you crying about, Park Avenue?" He said venomously. "Don't you know how lucky you are?"

She pushed his hand away contemptuously and scrambled away from him. He planted a foot on her ankle and pressed down so she could not escape. Flaky cried out in frustration and pain as he effortlessly held her down. She felt so helpless.

Flaky squirmed as she felt his finger trail from her neck to her lower back. "S-s-stop it!" She reached behind herself to swat at him.

Flipqy only laughed. "Well, what do you know? Little Flaky can still talk after all."

The girl felt the pressure being relived from her ankle and shook herself loose of him. She glared up at her captor. "Y-y-y-y-you t-tricked m-m-me. Y-you…"

She managed to get to her feet again before a wave of vertigo came over her. Flipqy took a step toward her, smirking.

Flaky backed away from him, her teeth grit in a mixture of fear and anger. "You got past the guards…. A-and Y-y-y-you're c-c-c-covered with b-blood. You're f-free."

She realized with horror that he had her backed up against a wall. He snaked his arms around her waist and lifted her. She gulped as he slowly buried his face into the crook of her neck.

"And I would like to thank _you_, personally."

Flaky shivered involuntarily as she felt him blow into her ear. In a panic, she raised her fists and pounded on his back and shoulders with all the strength that she could muster.

Her attacks were so harmless that Flipqy almost laughed, but he grunted in discomfort when one of her fists collided with his back just hard enough to register the soreness. He lowered her to her feet and pinned her to the wall with one hand. With the other, he rubbed away at his injury. "That wasn't very nice, you know. My back aches like you wouldn't believe; you're an awfully heavy thing to carry."

Flaky tried to tear his hand away from her collarbone, but Flipqy didn't even seem to take notice. "It was worth it, though." He continued. "It certainly made things interesting when I used you as a hostage and then took you for a walk through the police station. You should have seen the look on Splendid's stupid face!" He laughed hysterically as he remembered destroying the Chief's pride. "Imagine him losing two important persons and one psychotic killer on his watch! That'll certainly teach him not to threaten _me_ with the electric chair. I always knew I'd get even…"

"W-w-what do you want from me?" Flaky stuttered.

Flipqy paused his reminiscing and looked down. He gazed at her as if noticing her for the first time. With a wicked grin, he replied: "Oh… lots of things. Most of them are illegal."

Flaky gulped as Flipqy pressed two fingers into her chest. "But like I said before, you're a lucky little girl, Flaky. As these things pertain to you, you don't really have all that much to worry about, believe it or not." In a flash a blood-stained knife appeared in Flipqy's hand and Flaky was again paralyzed with fear. "That being said," Flipqy continued, running his thumb across the handle of the blade, "I'd like to go over just a couple of rules."

"First of all, I don't want to see any hesitation from you. When I say "Jump!" you say "How high?" got it dollface?"

Flaky trembled under him. She nodded.

"Second, I don't what to hear any bitching." He thrust his knife into her face. "If I have to listen to last night's display again… well, after I'm finished with you, you can cry all you damn well please."

Flaky had noticed at this point that his tone and actions had become increasingly harsh. It was similar to what happened shortly after his escape, smooth and persuasive one moment, and violent and abusive the next. She began to fear that he would hurt her again if he had another bipolar fit. "P-p-please," she whimpered, "I'm s-sorry. I won't d-do it again."

"Oh, you'd better not, Thackson. You've had it pretty fucking good on that easy street of yours. As far as I'm concerned, you wouldn't last ten minutes out in the _real_ world. I'm doing you a huge favor, really." He pressed the tip of the knife experimentally into the soft flesh of her shoulder, just hard enough to break the skin. Flaky cringed as she felt the thin trickle of blood run down her chest. "Stop…Please, Flipqy-"

Flaky went into shock as Flipqy's hand collided with her cheek. She recoiled from being struck, and desperately tried to fight back her tears as Flipqy bellowed, infuriated.

"Let's get one thing straight here, you little slut! I'm not your buddy. We are not equals. What I told you in that damned cell holds true to nothing out here. You have by no means permission to call me by my name. You are the puppet. I am the puppeteer. That's something you agreed to the moment you entered my cell. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Flaky fought her tears back and nodded vigorously, then thought better of it. "Y-y-y-y-yes. I-I-I u-u-understand." She stuttered, terrified.

It wasn't good enough for him; Flipqy wanted optimum performance. The killer scowled, and then yanked her hair until she cried out in pain. "Yes I understand, _what_?"

Flaky was so humiliated that she wanted to die. "Yes, I… I understand, _sir_."

Flipqy seemed satisfied with her answer, because he unclenched his fingers from her hair and paused to examine them. They had been coated with blood from her head, so Flipqy leaned over her to examine the wound. It had only barely closed up from the night before, but it wasn't serious enough to kill her on its own. Infection was the last thing Flipqy wanted to deal with right now, however. He needed to protect his new…_insurance_.

* * *

**Uncreative chapter title is uncreative.**

**Cut the chapter slightly short because I'm lazy. u_u**

**Any feedback is good feedback! **


End file.
